


Confirm

by kuiske



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swearing, reference to sex while drunk, super awkward nerdy vanilla first time sex, unpleasant sexual experience (implied), well thorin's first time but anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-30 02:36:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6405358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuiske/pseuds/kuiske
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin invites Dwalin to spend a night with him for the first time.</p><p>
  <i>Thorin was positive his face had to be embarrassingly red by now, but he pushed the thought aside and leaned over to press a tentative kiss on Dwalin’s lips. Dwalin stood completely still for a heartbeat or two. Then he lifted his hands to cup Thorin’s face, fingers trembling slightly, and kissed him back just as carefully.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The inn was not luxurious by any stretch of imagination and their rooms even less so; there was no furniture save for a rough bench and single sconce screwed to a wall with a tallow candle burning in it, and a pile of straw in one corner covered with their own furs and blankets that passed for a bed. In truth were their lodgings any cheaper they’d be sleeping in the stable with their ponies, but what little coin they had to spare would be much better used in food than in renting bigger rooms with more of the too-tall furniture Thorin wasn’t even sure would’ve supported the weight of the dwarven bodies in any case. 

He eyed the walls with much greater distaste than the meagre furnishings. They were hardly solid enough by any measure and were sure to let in a draft, and they were also the chief reason he couldn’t quite bring himself to mourn the lack of a fireplace in any of their rooms. He’d much rather suffer through the vague discomfort of cold sleeping quarters than start a fire inside a wooden house built with very uncertain craftsmanship. All their rooms were dry at least, which was a welcome change from the constant rain that had been soaking them to the bone for the past week now, and he kept telling himself that it was the only thing that truly mattered to him. Besides, he added to his mental tally as an afterthought, the cheapest rooms which he was fairly certain had originally been intended for housing vegetables rather than people had the unexpected blessing of being completely windowless. He was _absolutely_ certain that if the innkeeper had known enough of dwarves to know their preferences the price for them would’ve gone up quite steeply.

He recognised Dwalin’s heavy footsteps approaching in the hallway long before he knocked his boot against the door-frame as a signal that he’d be coming into the room. Dwalin smiled at him, and since they were alone he nudged his forehead briefly against Thorin’s as well.

“You wanted to see me?”

Thorin nodded and his mouth went dry all of a sudden. He stood up straighter on an instinct, his posture shifting from relaxed to guarded in a nervous gesture he wasn’t even aware of.

“Thorin?” Dwalin’s voice took a wary edge. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, yes it’s fine,” Thorin felt colour rise to his cheeks. “I’m- You know, we haven’t slept inside for a while now, and after tonight I don’t know when we will again, and well, it’s okay if you don’t want to, but Dís said she wouldn’t mind staying with Balin and aunt Hrís if you’d like... 

If you’d like to sleep with me?”

Thorin was positive his face had to be embarrassingly red by now, but he pushed the thought aside and leaned over to press a tentative kiss on Dwalin’s lips. Dwalin stood completely still for a heartbeat or two. Then he lifted his hands to cup Thorin’s face, fingers trembling slightly, and kissed him back just as carefully.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dwalin’s voice broke a little around the curse.

Thorin giggled only a touch hysterically.

“Well, yeah.”

Dwalin snorted with laughter and nipped the tip of Thorin’s nose playfully before burying his hands in his unbound hair and pulling him into another kiss; deeper, rougher, hungrier this time. Mouths open, their tongues slid against each other almost feverishly as Dwalin backed him against a wall and Thorin clawed at Dwalin’s shirt, desperate to get it out of the way. When his hands finally found bare skin Dwalin groaned low at the back of his throat and ground his hips against Thorin’s, and then it was Thorin drowning his moans into Dwalin’s mouth, grabbing at his back to pull him closer, _closer_ , and he cursed the clothes they were both still wearing.

Gasping for breath and with swollen lips and slightly glazed over eyes they broke apart at last.

“I think- I think we should close that door,” Thorin managed after a while.

“Aye, we probably should,” Dwalin grinned and tried to take a step back, and swore heavily to find his wrist cuff caught up in Thorin’s hair.

“ _Shit!_ Hold on, don’t move-”

Dwalin fumbled with the buckles to get the cuff off his wrist and then tried to untangle it without tearing the hair it was snagged in. After an eternity or so it finally came loose, with only a few broken strands still caught in it. Dwalin tossed it to a corner so fast it might’ve been iron glowing red instead of plain dark leather, and the cuff on his other wrist followed soon after it.

“Sorry,” Dwalin mumbled, his face burning crimson.

Thorin waved his apology aside, and free to move again he turned to close the door that had been left ajar. He made sure it was locked before turning towards Dwalin again, feeling a little uncertain.

“We should-” Thorin gestured vaguely between them before giving up on words altogether and pulling his tunic brusquely over his head.

They undressed quickly and efficiently and in complete silence, save for a quick oath Thorin muttered under his breath when he undid his belt and pulled his trousers down before he realised he still had his boots on. He had to sit down on the floor to save himself from tripping on his clothes and falling on his face as he struggled out of his footwear, and it didn’t occur to him until he stood back up, naked now and flushed with embarrassment, that he could’ve just pulled his trousers back up for a moment to make removing his boots much easier.

The heat of the previous moment had passed. Thorin looked at his best friend, almost a lover, _soon to be a lover_ , and all he could feel was crippling self-consciousness. He shouldn’t have; even though they had only been _this_ for a couple of months they’d known each other for all their lives. Only a few weeks’ worth of kisses and caresses in rare moments of privacy when they weren’t too exhausted for either, and far _far_ from the first time they’d seen each other naked, but the situation made all the difference in the world. Dwalin was beautiful, from the crest of his mohawk to his inked feet, the runes there mirroring those on his hands. His heavily muscled body was patterned with battle-scars and tattoos like a warrior at least twice his age and his cock was already half-hard between his legs and oh, Dwalin was _beautiful_. Feeling his eyes on himself now Thorin was painfully aware of every single inadequacy of his own body, and they all came across particularly unflattering in comparison.

Dwalin closed the space between them, if only just. He took Thorin by the hand and Thorin allowed himself to be led to lie down on their bed of furs and straw. He had lost all of his courage and cursed himself for nine kinds of a coward for finding himself almost grateful when Dwalin simply settled down next to him and didn’t move to touch him further than reaching for his hand again. He had no business being this terrified around _Dwalin_ of all people, but the more he tried to force his shyness aside and _just kiss him dammit_ , the more nervous he in turn became.

“Hey,” Dwalin said softly and squeezed Thorin’s hand a little, cutting off his line of thought. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t feel like it anymore. It’s okay. I don’t mind, I promise.”

“I _do_ want to, it’s just that I’d planned...” Thorin grimaced and looked down. “I was going to be _better_ at this.”

“You’re doing _fine_ ,” Dwalin said, and even sounded like he meant it. “Better than I did on my first time anyway. Probably. And this is yours. Isn’t it? You haven’t done this before?”

“You damn well know I haven’t,” Thorin muttered.

He had never understood the appeal of spending a night with a stranger just for the sake of sex, and truthfully for a long time he had failed to see the appeal of sex altogether. It had taken him years to develop feelings besides friendship for Dwalin; the desire had grown into him completely unnoticed and he could still remember being surprised (then alarmed, and then just plain mortified) when he’d first caught himself daydreaming about tracing the muscles on his best friend’s chest with his lips and tongue. Of course the shock of discovering just how much he wanted Dwalin had been _nothing_ compared to the shock of finding himself being wanted as much in return. He could barely believe it even now.

Thorin lifted his eyes back to Dwalin’s face and found him smiling at him. 

“Aye, I know,” Dwalin admitted. “Can I? Touch you?” 

Thorin nodded and Dwalin brushed his thumb against his lips and pushed a stray lock of hair away from his face before wrapping his arm around him. Thorin shuffled a little closer and buried his face to Dwalin’s shoulder with a frustrated groan.

“I’m sorry I’m being so-” _Scared. Useless. Cowardly._

“Don’t be,” Dwalin tightened his arm around him a little. “It’s _all right_ , Thorin.”

“I know you’re just saying all that to make me feel better,” Thorin said after a while. “But... how embarrassing was your first time if I’m doing _better_ in comparison.”

“Well, _of course_ I’m trying to make you feel better,” Thorin could hear Dwalin rolling his eyes in exasperation. “It’s not like it’s bloody illegal. Unless you went behind my back and outlawed it, and in that case I’ll just have to take up a life of crime. And it isn’t really much of a story, it was some Blacklock lad, can’t recall his name, we were both so drunk we could barely get it up and that’s pretty much all I remember. Also I nearly threw up on Balin’s boots the next morning.”

Thorin snorted with laughter and pressed an apologetic kiss on Dwalin’s collarbone immediately afterwards.

“ _Sorry_. But I think I remember that. Balin yelling at you I mean. Wasn’t that the time you flirted your way into a drinking game because you were curious about Blacklock rum?”

“You officially remember more of that night than I do.”

“Well, maybe,” Thorin said with a crooked little smile. "I probably should’ve knocked back a few drinks tonight myself.”

“No,” Dwalin pulled back a little, suddenly deadly serious. “I don’t want... Look, I know I can’t really talk, but if you aren’t ready to fuck me sober then you aren’t ready and we’ll wait, but I don’t want you to-” 

“Dwalin, I was _joking_.”

“Well, I’m _not_!” Dwalin snapped. He pushed Thorin away and sat up abruptly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hey, _hey_. What-?” Thorin hesitated a little before getting up as well. “Are you all right?”

Dwalin’s only reply was a brief grunt, which usually meant something between _fine_ and _don’t ask_ , but he didn’t protest when Thorin moved to sit next to him, nor when he slid his hand slowly to the small of his back. There was an old burn scar a few inches to the right from Dwalin’s spine, years older than the Dragon-attack and the first of his injuries serious enough to have left a permanent mark on his skin. Thorin ran his fingers softly over a reminder of why apprentices shouldn’t be trusted to _not_ act like idiots in the forges, waiting for Dwalin to speak. He did, eventually, oddly agitated and through clenched teeth.

“You- Look, you work yourself to the fucking ground taking care of everyone and put yourself last all the fucking time, don’t you even _try_ to tell me you don’t, and I don’t want-” 

Dwalin cut himself off with an anguished sounding growl, and then his arms were around Thorin and he was crushing him against himself. 

“ _I want you_. So. _Fucking_. Much.” Dwalin moaned into his ear and tightened his hold on him until it hurt; his fingers digging into Thorin’s flesh were sure to leave bruises. “And I don’t want you doing that with me, I don’t want you forcing yourself to do a damn _thing_ with me just because you feel like you have some _duty_ , just _don’t_ -”

Thorin didn’t know what to do or say, so he just waited and let Dwalin keep his bone-breaking hold on him and muffle his words into his hair.

“Dwalin?” he whispered finally in a strangled voice. “I need to breathe?” 

For a moment Thorin thought Dwalin hadn’t heard him, but then he sighed heavily and loosened his death-grip with a mumbled apology. Thorin drew a deep breath in relief and shifted to a more comfortable position. He broke the silence between them before it had the chance to grow heavy.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what- I didn’t mean- I’m _sorry_ , okay?” 

Dwalin replied with a nod, and Thorin knew he was waiting for him to continue.

He took Dwalin’s hand and kissed it and then guided it palm down to his chest. Dwalin’s fingers splayed over his heart and Thorin covered them with his own.

“I do want this. You. It’s just I’m a little... well. Nervous. That’s all.”

“All right,” Dwalin _smiled_ at him for some reason and leaned over to kiss his forehead. “We’ll just sleep, then.”

He plopped unceremoniously down on their furs and gestured for Thorin to follow suit so that they could share both their patched blankets and the heat of their bodies during the night.

“Or did you want me to put on some clothes befor-”

“ _No_ ,” Thorin said so hastily it was almost embarrassing. “Unless you-”

“Nah,” Dwalin grinned. ”I like looking at you naked. You’re beautiful.”

Thorin made a vague noise in reply and thought he managed not to blush _too_ badly at the compliment. Dwalin’s grin widened. Suddenly he lunged forward and grabbed Thorin around the waist and hauled him down on top of himself, burying his nose to his neck. Thorin let out a startled yelp because his nose was _cold_ and he twisted out of Dwalin’s grasp and jabbed him in the ribs in revenge before attacking his feet which he knew to be extremely ticklish.

Somehow the resulting scuffle ended with them both approximately under covers, still locked in a wrestling hold that had melted into a relaxed embrace. Thorin nuzzled against Dwalin’s beard and sighed happily, deliberately moving even closer to him. The straw under them might have smelled stale and just on this side of mouldy, but Dwalin’s scent was all sweat and iron and it felt good to press himself against his bare body. It felt _right_ , and for a while neither of them spoke except with their hands that kept whispering soft touches on the other’s skin.

“You really all right?” Thorin asked quietly after carefully considering whether he should say anything at all.

It’s not like he hadn’t noticed Dwalin deliberately shifting the mood, and he wasn’t certain if he wanted to talk about what had upset him. If he’d rather pretend nothing had happened then Thorin would happily play along, but Dwalin kept feathering his fingertips around the edges of the freshly forming bruises left by his own hands and Thorin could sense his disquiet.

Dwalin drew back a little so that he could actually look Thorin in the face. His eyes gleamed almost black in the guttering light of the room’s single candle, but Thorin didn’t need to see the stormy grey to recall their true colour. He had heard admiring people liken his own eyes to sapphires for the most of his life, but privately he had always found Dwalin’s to be more striking. Everyone had at least seen sapphires after all, once upon a time in a world that had been stolen from them, while diamonds of the clear steel blue colour had been truly rare even in the Mountain; exquisite and priceless. Somewhere at the back of his mind Thorin dreaded the day when those eyes would look at him and _see_ him at last, but there was nothing of disappointment or disgust in Dwalin’s expression now, though the masked hurt mixed with more open concern was certainly painful enough.

“Aye, I’m fine, it’s nothing. But I really meant that. Just tell me, _tell me_ if you’re not sure about _anything_ ,” Dwalin said and brought his hand to Thorin’s cheek. “Nothing you don’t want, nothing, _ever_ , you hear me?”

Thorin felt something inside his chest constrict. The simple promise was nothing short from self-evident and it shouldn’t have mattered so much just to hear the words spoken aloud, but it had been _so long_ since there’d been much choice in his life that he had almost forgotten what it felt like. He didn’t quite trust his voice not to break, so he slid his hand to the back of Dwalin’s head and pulled him down into a kiss, hoping that his lips and tongue alone would speak his answer loudly enough.

“Okay?” Dwalin breathed against his mouth.

“Mhh-hm,” Thorin hummed, then huffed with sudden laughter. “Does that mean you’ll stop buying me things I don’t need? Because I very clearly remember telling you just today I don’t want you using your coin on me and you bought me a toffee anyway.”

“Well, of course I did. That old lady with the stove actually tipped me a few pennies, and I can’t get something for Dís and myself and nothing for you, can I now?” Dwalin said and caught Thorin’s lower lip briefly between his teeth. “So no, not a chance of that, I’m afraid.”

“I could give you a royal order.”

“I’ll just have to disregard that.”

“Traitor,” Thorin accused with a smile. “And what about Balin?”

“Would’ve knocked me over the head if I’d brought him back sweets,” Dwalin grinned. “I left his toffee in his pocket.”

“You’ll still pay for that tomorrow, you know.”

“Nah, I won’t. He’ll pretend he never noticed it so he doesn’t have to give it back on principle.”

They both sniggered at that like badly behaved dwarflings who’d gotten away with pilfering honey-cakes from the kitchens. Balin had as much of a sweet tooth as any dwarf and more than most, even though he usually pretended he was far above such mundane things as cakes and candies. Which as it happened they could now never truly afford. Most of the time Thorin found it very easy to forget that Balin wasn’t actually half as old as his rapidly whitening hair and general demeanour would’ve suggested, especially now that most of their parents and grandparents were lost to either the Dragon or the exile or the orcs, or then simply _lost_. Almost five years since Azanulbizar and he still hoped that one morning he’d wake to find his Father returned to them, though he knew better than to voice his childish hopes to anyone. Even Dís wouldn't meet his eyes whenever he refused to count their Father among the dead; she had had the memorial tattoo for him cut into her skin when her markings for Frerin and Grandfather were barely healed.

“Hey,” Dwalin nudged him with his nose. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Right. How about you stop looking so miserable over it then.” Dwalin stretched and burrowed deeper into their bedding for a more comfortable position. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah,” Thorin agreed halfheartedly.

He ghosted his hand over Dwalin’s chest and stomach, holding back a wince at how thin he was. No dwarf should be in a condition where you could feel his muscles directly beneath his skin without even a thought of spare flesh in between, and being able to count his ribs was even worse. Thorin knew he wasn’t in any better shape himself, none of their people were, but that was no kind of comfort. He really should find a way to do something about that, but there was no growing fat with odd jobs and hard travel and short rations, and he had no idea what he _could_ do make it better. He slid his hand absent-mindedly lower until he was carding his fingers through the thick hair leading down to Dwalin’s crotch. His pleased groan brought Thorin back to the present.

“I’d like to... Can I touch you?” Thorin asked abruptly, moving his caresses to Dwalin’s inner thigh. “Just a little? Just to- I’d like to try how it- how you feel like?”

“ _Please_ ,” Dwalin said hoarsely.

Thorin hesitated only for a moment longer before closing his hand around Dwalin’s cock. It was limp in his hand for now and holding it felt both utterly different from taking himself to hand and strangely familiar in the same time. He stroked it along its length tentatively and a bit clumsily, and let go of it as soon as he felt it slowly beginning to harden beneath his fingers. It didn’t seem polite to get Dwalin aroused just for the sake of him getting a feel of his cock.

“Thank you,” Thorin whispered, because he didn’t know what else you were supposed to say to your lover when he let you touch himself.

“You’re welcome,” Dwalin said with a breathless little laugh and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “It’s _all yours_ , you know.”

“Arse,” Thorin grumbled through a smile.

“Aye, that too,” Dwalin grinned. His hand found its way to Thorin’s lower back where it stayed, rubbing small circles on his skin right above his buttocks. “Speaking of...?”

“Go ahead.”

Dwalin slid his hand down and squeezed Thorin’s arse. It was hardly a new experience since Dwalin thoroughly enjoyed fondling him whenever he got the chance, but it _was_ the first time without a layer of clothes separating them, and Thorin couldn’t help a startled gasp of pleasure when he felt a warm hand grasping his bare behind. Dwalin chuckled a little and kissed him before tugging him gently closer. He grazed his teeth along Thorin’s jaw and slipped his hand slowly between his legs, pressing his fingers into the sensitive flesh behind his testicles. Thorin reeled with a sudden surge of arousal and jerked his hips forward with a needy moan tearing out of his throat, and for one highly charged moment they stared at one another, breathing heavily and lips brushing against each other in an intimate not-quite-a-kiss. Then Dwalin swallowed audibly and withdrew his hand. 

“We... _really_ should sleep,” he murmured and looked away.

“Probably,” Thorin conceded with a flash of bitter disappointment he suppressed quickly. “You feel like getting up to blow out that candle?”

Dwalin groaned dramatically, obviously grateful that Thorin had changed the subject though he didn’t mention it. He didn’t give any indication that he was planning on moving any time soon either.

“I think I could get it from here,” he said and looked around trying to find something suitable to throw.

“Out of the question,” Thorin forbade and gave him a little shove. “You’ll just knock it over and burn down this rickety excuse of a building.”

“I have better aim than that,” Dwalin protested indignantly.

“There’s a _very_ good reason you aren’t an archer, you know,” Thorin teased.

“Slander,” Dwalin complained. “See if I’m getting up now.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Thorin rolled his eyes. “ _I’ll_ do it. You big baby.”

He stood up with an exaggeratedly long-suffering sigh and took the few steps across the room as quickly as possible. Neither the air nor the packed-earth floor were exactly cold, but it had been _much_ nicer and warmer under the covers. Thorin snuffed out the candle and plunged the room in darkness that he found to his satisfaction to be almost absolute, save for some faint light bleeding in from the narrow crack between the door and the door-frame. Enough for the dwarven eyes to see by, as if he’d have needed sight to find his way back to their furs and under the blanket where he could curl up next to Dwalin again.

“My hero,” Dwalin said and kissed his forehead.

“Grossly insubordinate overgrown dwarfling,” Thorin growled in response.

“ _So_ mature,” Dwalin snorted. “And you know, technically you never did give me an order, so...”

“Dwalin. Shut up and sleep.”

“As my King commands.”

Thorin was lying much too close to Dwalin to kick him in the shins with much success, but it was the thought that counted. Dwalin laughed and draped his arm loosely around his waist, and just like the goodnight kiss he pressed on Thorin's shoulder he pressed his body against his as well. 

Dwalin's breathing evened out and he started to snore in a manner of minutes; he had a singular gift of falling asleep Thorin hadn't shared even in childhood and which he often envied in moments like these when he wasn't exhausted enough to black out as soon as he fell to bed. Thorin closed his eyes and tried to coax himself into unconsciousness and found it even more difficult than he usually did. He'd been sharing a tent with his siblings since the Mountain fell, and since Azanulbizar he'd barely spent a night without Dís sleeping at an arm's reach of him at all times. As much as Dwalin's presence beside him now was a comfort so was her absence an aberration. Thorin felt a sudden stab of sharp guilt for having asked her to give them some privacy tonight. Seeking a night of intimacy with Dwalin had seemed like such an innocent thing to do, but lying awake now in the dark it just felt like selfish abandonment. Or maybe he was being selfish _now_ and overestimating his own importance, and his adolescent sister, hardly alone in the company of their aunt and cousin, was perfectly fine and braver than the brother remaining to her. After all it wasn't _her_ who had a habit of waking up from relived bloodshed choking on a scream. 

He got a sudden childish urge to poke Dwalin awake under the guise of asking him if he was asleep yet, but what had been passable behaviour for a child on a sleepover with his friend probably wouldn't be that for an adult in bed with his lover. Even if they happened to be the same person. 

His _lover_. Thorin still wasn't sure if he could actually call Dwalin that since they hadn't actually had sex because he'd been too _scared_. 

He almost felt like laughing.

He couldn't sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Dwalin was awake in a flash and fumbling blindly for the knife in the pack that served as his pillow long before he fully recognised the sound that had woken him

 _a long screech of metal against metal, a deflected blow sliding along plate armour_

and he didn’t even have time for fear until he realised that his pack wasn’t there, and neither were his weapons, and there was someone right next to him, close enough to touch, hands on his bare skin, _where were his clothes?_ Someone was close enough to pin him down when he tried to fight them off with his bare hands, smart enough to dodge the headbutt, _fuck_ , not like this, he wasn’t, he wasn’t going to die like _this_ -

“... Dwalin, _Dwalin_ , please listen to me, it’s all right, please, it’s me, it’s all right...”

Dwalin froze. He couldn’t quite make out his assailant’s face in the darkness, but there was no mistaking the voice now that he could hear past the blood rushing is his ears.

“Thorin?” he whispered.

“Yes. It’s me. Hey,” Thorin murmured soothingly. “You with me now?”

Dwalin made a noncommittal sound that had to be good enough of an answer for now. The rest of the world crept slowly back as Thorin let go of him. Not a tent but an inn. Not an ambush. His pack was in the room he had been meaning to share with Balin and aunt Hrís but he wasn’t there, he was with Thorin, he was sleeping with Thorin and his belt-knife lay abandoned in a heap of clothes on the floor. He had been in such a haste to strip himself naked that he hadn’t even thought about the possibility of an attack. Stupid, stupid, stupid and careless in retrospect now that his fingers itched for weapons and he was twitchy with nerves and every painful heartbeat still pushed more fear through his veins, but none of it had seemed to matter earlier. There had been no room in his mind for anything but Thorin inviting him to his bed, and how, _how_ could there possibly even have been?

_Stupid._

Dwalin groaned and kicked feebly to rid himself of his uncomfortably sweat-soaked blanket. He didn’t manage, the blanket had somehow tangled itself around his legs and he could barely move them at all. Fresh flood of panic crashed over him the moment he realised he was bound up; he trashed and flailed uselessly and finally sank deep down into himself and pressed his face to the furs with a pathetic whine. If he didn’t try to escape maybe he could pretend he wasn’t trapped, wasn’t small, wasn’t helpless, wasn’t trying and failing to suppress the sobs that shook his entire body. If he lay completely still maybe he could forget that he couldn’t move, he couldn’t, he _couldn’t_ -

“Dwalin, I’m going to touch you now,” Thorin said from somewhere far away. “Going to get you free. Please try not to kick me, all right?”

Dwalin didn’t try to kick him. Even after Thorin had untangled the blanket and gotten up to rummage around in their things he didn’t even try to see if he could get up. He didn’t dare, because what if? What if he still couldn’t...

 _Some warrior_ , he thought dully, shame rising like bile to burn at the back of his throat.

“I’m going to lie back down. If that’s fine for you?” Thorin said as he walked back to their furs.

Dwalin didn’t answer.

“Dwalin? Do you think you could- could you talk to me?” Thorin asked and sat gingerly down next to him.

Time passed, in silence.

“Dwalin? Please?”

Thorin sounded scared now, so scared, and like he was about to cry. Like he was trying to hide it. Dwalin hated it. He swallowed thickly.

“F-ine,” he rasped. “I’m. Fine.”

“Thank you,” Thorin whispered. “I could- Do you want me to- hold you, or-”

Dwalin shook his head tersely. No, he didn’t want to be touched.

“Okay.” Thorin didn’t try to push the issue and sat silently for a while.

Then he started to sing.

It was a simple but a very long nursery rhyme about how Mahal forged the world into being and sprinkled the new Mountains with treasures for his yet unborn children to find and work on. Dwalin could’ve joined in any other day - every dwarfling learned the words - but now he concentrated on breathing instead and let the familiar verses wash over him. When sparks of gold struck from their Maker’s hammer got caught in the deep blue of the lapis in the Red Mountains something in Dwalin shuddered and came loose. He exhaled heavily and found that there was nothing there to stop him from reaching out to Thorin, even if his hand still shook a little.

Thorin started and halted mid-verse as Dwalin brushed his fingers against his knee.

“I’m fine,” Dwalin said, more convincingly this time. “You can-”

He gestured towards himself and Thorin smiled and scooted over. He’d picked up Dwalin’s knife from somewhere and he handed it to him without a word. Dwalin curled his fingers tight around the hilt and felt immediately safer for it. The weapon was solid and served better than anything to remind him that he maybe wasn’t quite so helpless after all. 

It took Thorin snuggling up close to him for Dwalin to realise that he was completely uncovered and getting very uncomfortably chilly. Had been getting chilly for a while, probably. And yet Dwalin clenched his fist around his knife, knuckles white, and tried not to flinch as Thorin spread a blanket over them both. It wasn’t like the thing was going to _eat_ him and he was never going to get warm without it, but he still twitched nervously when it touched his skin and there really wasn’t a subtle way to test whether it was restricting his movements now. 

Thorin didn’t seem to mind, not even when Dwalin pressed himself against him and buried his face into his neck like a scared child seeking for comfort. Memories came to him unbidden; of making himself smaller to fit into his Mother’s embrace because he’d grown taller than her, of his Father’s rough hands stroking his hair to calm him down. Except that his parents were both dead, they had both of them been _killed_ , and it was Thorin with him now, Thorin caressing him gently, Thorin grounding him with the warmth of his body alone far better than even the steel in his hand. 

(Alive, alive, _alive_.)

*

“Sorry,” Dwalin mumbled eventually, exhaling heavily as the worst of the tension left him. “I didn’t mean to... wake you.”

 _I didn’t mean to frighten you_ went unsaid.

“It’s okay, I wasn’t asleep,” Thorin said hastily. “I just-”

Thorin swallowed and his voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.

“I didn’t know you get that, too.”

Dwalin was a little surprised. There was hardly a way to hide waking in panic from the one sleeping next to you, but he’d have thought that Thorin would’ve known for sure what it had been about earlier tonight as well.

(He didn’t regret his own first time, he _didn’t_ , but the thought of Thorin doing the same _with him_ , Thorin getting drunk and just... And just _getting it over with_...)

In a wordless reply Dwalin slid his hand lower on Thorin’s back, over the bruises he’d left on his skin. He had clung on to him hard enough to hurt, struck by mindless terror over the mere thought of accidentally doing him harm.

Someone else might have found the irony amusing, but Dwalin didn’t feel like laughing.

“I thought you were just- _upset_ , I didn’t think... It wasn’t so...” Thorin trailed off. “I should’ve known. I’m sorry.”

“’s okay.”

If nothing else, Dwalin was sure Thorin wouldn’t have laughed either.

Thrór had been a good King, but the shadow of his madness hung over Thorin like a curse now that Thráin was gone as well. It didn’t do to feed the rumours that the King wasn’t only young, but much like his father and grandfather he also wasn’t quite right in the head - yet there was only so much one could keep secret on the road.

 _Everyone_ knew Thorin got it as bad as anyone, and worse than most. 

It.

 _That_ wasn’t really spoken about save for maybe in concerned whispers, never mind that most of the Exiles had first-hand experience of it. Maybe all of them had. 

Nightmares. Bad nerves. Worse. 

But it wasn’t a wound the healers could fix, so they’d all learned to watch for the signs and find ways around it as best they could. They managed. And they didn’t mention it in the morning when someone’s screams woke the entire camp in the middle of the night. 

Dwalin had never been a screamer.

Maybe that was why Thorin hadn’t known.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Thorin finding out like _this_ , but he was relieved to know that he wouldn’t have to think up a way to talk about any of it now, not yet, maybe not ever. 

“I heard... what?” Dwalin asked haltingly, changing the subject.

“I think the innkeeper’s children needed something from the cellars,” Thorin said. “Or maybe not, maybe they were just- but I heard them talking. I’m not sure about the noise, but I don’t think... I don’t think it was a weapon. And they weren’t trying to get in. They were going away.”

Dwalin grunted. He could’ve hurt Thorin, he had been _sure_ that the enemy- 

And it was kids. Probably scraping keys against whatever metal bits they could find because it made a nice sound. _Wonderful_.

“You weren’t sleeping?” Dwalin asked abruptly.

“Not really. Couldn’t. It’s only been an hour or so.” Thorin said evasively.

“You could’ve woken me.”

“Considered it,” Thorin admitted. “But there’s no reason you shouldn’t sleep just because I can’t.”

“Aye, well I didn’t seem do manage too well either,” Dwalin huffed weakly.

Thorin didn’t reply. Dwalin wanted to know why, why he hadn’t been able to sleep, but he chose not to ask and left the question hanging in the air between them.

Neither of them spoke for a long while.

“I’m worried about Dís,” Thorin whispered finally.

“Balin and aunt Hrís won’t let anything happen to her.”

“I know,” Thorin said. “I _know_. It’s just...”

Thorin breathed in and out heavily a couple of times.

“I mean... she’s been sleeping with just me since- since- 

I don’t want her thinking she’s got to go somewhere else because I’ve got you now, I don’t _want_ her anywhere else, I can’t-  
But I also want you. To be with you. And I already wasted your time tonight for _nothing_ , and she just a child and I... I- I don’t know what to do.”

“Look,” Dwalin said, trying desperately to find the right words though he wasn’t sure there were any to be found. ”Balin never shuts up about me snoring, so I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna mind having me gone from the tent once in a while and... It wouldn’t have to be every night. Us. Dís still likes me, doesn’t she? She isn’t planning my murder for stealing you away?”

“No.”

“Good. We’ll think of something, okay?”

“Okay,” Thorin said, sounding far from certain.

Dwalin wiggled to a slightly different position so that he could reach to kiss him on the forehead. 

“Try to get some rest, will you? You not sleeping isn’t going to solve anything.”

“It’s not like I _choose_ to stay awake,” Thorin said testily.

“Sorry.”

“It’s-”

“And you aren’t wasting my time, by the way,“ Dwalin added quietly as an afterthought. “This isn’t nothing to me.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” Dwalin cut him off firmly.

“ _But_ ,” Thorin repeated forcefully. “I know you wanted-”

He blushed deep crimson and continued much more subdued.

“I know you wanted sex. I could see how- how hard you were getting, before...”

“What am I, dead?” Dwalin laughed and nipped his ear. “I got to look at you taking your clothes off, beautiful, I got to look at you naked just for me, damn right I was hard for you.”

Thorin blinked and looked so utterly confused all of a sudden that it was almost comical. 

“What? What’s so-” 

Then it all dawned to Dwalin in a flash.

“Oh. Oh, _you_ ,” he groaned a little desperately. “You think- You don’t think it’s got anything to do with _you_ when I get hard just _looking_ at you?”

Thorin refused to meet his eyes and turned a shade redder.

“Didn’t occur, huh?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t,” Dwalin mumbled, nuzzling against Thorin’s cheek. “ _Don’t._ ”

He didn’t know how to make Thorin understand how much he wanted him, body and soul - to make him _believe_ if he didn’t already - but that didn’t stop him from trying. Dwalin pushed Thorin on his back on their furs and covered him with his body like he would to shield him from a blow. He buried his hands into his hair and nudged their foreheads together, rubbing his nose against Thorin’s.

“Lovely,” he breathed. “So beautiful.”

“Dwalin...”

“Hush,” Dwalin whispered feverishly. “Gorgeous.”

“Dw-”

“No. Don’t you dare argue.”

“ _Dwalin!_ ” Thorin’s fingernails sank into his back. “Are you all right?”

“I’m... Yes?” 

“You sure?”

“Aye,” Dwalin said, and it felt less like a lie than it would’ve mere seconds ago. He added as flippantly as he could manage: “But you could kiss me better?”

He had meant it as a joke, but Thorin fumbled for his lips and kissed him as requested, and then he continued to kiss him, softly, gently, and Dwalin let him. He barely responded and let Thorin take charge, let Thorin hook his leg behind his thigh and roll them over, let him crawl half-way on top of himself. Thorin was heavy, but the weight felt good, _so good_ , and then Dwalin finally kissed him back. 

That’s how they went on; relaxing into each other and forgetting for a while that either of them had ever been scared or nervous.

“What?” Dwalin blinked, fazed, when Thorin broke the kiss and pulled back.

“I’ve been...”

Thorin looked him in the eye, suddenly determined. He bent down slowly and deliberately and pressed his lips on Dwalin's chest instead of his mouth, right above his heart. Dwalin groaned as he felt tongue flicker against his skin and he ground his hips hard against Thorin before he could catch himself, arousal building up in him fast and quite against his will. Encouraged by his response rather than deterred by it Thorin tasted him again, for longer now and with a hint of teeth that sent a new wave of pleasure though Dwalin. Then Thorin straightened up and smiled at him shyly.

“I’ve been wanting to do that. For a long time.”

“You can do that again any time you want to,” Dwalin breathed.

“I think... If you want...” 

Thorin looked more certain of himself now than he had the whole night. He took Dwalin by the wrist and guided his hand to his thigh, sliding it up until it rested a mere inch from his cock. 

“I think I want you to touch me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S BEEN A YEAR AND THEY'RE STILL NOT HAVING SEX, I HATE THEM!!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> ...I swear they'll get to it... any day now...

**Author's Note:**

> You know I just wanted to write a short porn piece, but then these two decided to have emotions and plot and goddammit.


End file.
